


I'll Try to be Brave

by Cerillen



Series: What is Your Life Like? [3]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 07:01:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15431562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerillen/pseuds/Cerillen
Summary: Hey, so I just heard about how Ronnie from the Game Theorists committed suicide.I watched the video of Mat talking about it and it really struck a cord with me.I’ve had depression for a very long time now and I’ve had anxiety for just as long, if not longer.I’ve struggled with it for years and it’s only been very recently that I’ve managed to move past it enough to let myself be happy and honest, both with myself and other people.So I kind of just wanted to express that and create a sort of venting reminder or something.Maybe a kind of personal memorial for an amazing guy that so many people will miss now that he’s gone.So I wrote this.It’s technically something from the WYLL universe, but it’s also just my own personal feelings and thoughts.My own struggles and how I try to face them.So, yeah.Thank you for reading this.





	I'll Try to be Brave

**If I died, would you care?**

**If I fell to pieces in your hands, would you cry?**

**If I disappeared, would you even remember me?**

I ask these questions sometimes.

I don’t like to consider them.

But they flow into my mind uncontrollably.

Like rushing water through a stream.

And I find myself considering these questions and what your answers would be.

**If I died, would you care?**

_Of course not. I have more important things to worry about than you’re life._

**If I fell to pieces in your hands, would you cry?**

_No. I would throw you away. You’re useless if you fall apart._

**If I disappeared, would you even remember me?**

_I barely remember you now. Why would I bother trying after you’re gone?_

It hurts.

Not always because of these questions.

Sometimes, the pain just seems to fill me.

Like a force of it’s own.

And nothing I do can get rid of it.

But there were times when you spoke to me.

When you sat near me in silence or when you did something nice for me.

And those times made the pain fade, if only a little.

**If I died, would you care?**

_Hey, g’morning. How’d you sleep last night?_

**If I fell to pieces in your hands, would you cry?**

_Do you mind if I join you today? The others are a little too loud for my liking._

**If I disappeared, would you even remember me?**

_Oh, hey. I’ve got some extra chocolate, do you want some?_

Sometimes I would feel like I was worth something to you.

Like you cared and I was important.

And I would stop thinking about those questions and start thinking about happier ones.

**If I asked you to hang out, would you say yes?**

**If I tried to start a conversation with you, would you talk to me?**

**If I smiled at you, would you smile back?**

And, sometimes, I even think that you’ll say yes to my questions.

That I can gather up the courage and ask them.

And you’ll look at me and smile, like you do with everyone else.

And I can understand what it feels like to belong.

**If I asked you to hang out, would you say yes?**

_Oh! You should go with us! It’ll be fun!_

**If I tried to start a conversation with you, would you talk to me?**

_Wait, before you go, I wanted to get your opinion on this._

**If I smiled at you, would you smile back?**

_I cannot believe you just did that. That was hilarious and calls for a high five._

Sometimes, I can imagine it.

I can imagine having fun and being happy with you.

I can imagine having friends that care about me.

I can imagine having a family that loves me, no matter what.

And it hurts.

It hurts to think of those things that I don’t have.

To think about these questions I’m not brave enough to ask.

It hurts me so much.

It feels like I’m breaking in two.

Because I can’t ask those questions.

And I don’t know your answers.

**If I asked you to hang out, would you say yes?**

_No way! I’ve got better things to do than hang out with someone like you._

**If I tried to start a conversation with you, would you talk to me?**

_Yeah, sorry, but I don’t really wanna talk to you. So I’m just gonna…go, yeah._

**If I smiled, would you smile back?**

_Gross, no. I don’t even like you in the first place. Why would I smile at you?_

And that scares me.

It scares me so much that I find myself answering your questions like that instead.

I find myself doubting every kind word you say to me.

Every sweet gesture.

Every fond smile.

I can see it.

I see you sometimes.

I see how hard you try to reach me.

And it makes my heart swell with happiness.

But then those questions fill my mind and I find myself doubting again.

And then the old ones resurface.

**If I died, would you care?**

**If I fell to pieces in your hands, would you cry?**

**If I disappeared, would you even remember me?**

And those questions make me do things I regret.

Things that hurt me more.

Things that hurt you too.

Things that I know I shouldn’t do.

But I can’t seem to help it.

I lose control and suddenly all I can think of is silencing the questions for good.

But I never get that far.

Because, deep down, I know.

**If I died, would you care?**

_Of course I would care! I’d be devastated if you died! Please don’t!_

**If I asked you to hang out, would you say yes?**

_Wait, really?! You wanna hang out?! That’s awesome! Yeah, let’s hang out!_

**If I fell to pieces in your hands, would you cry?**

_Um, yes? Yes, I would probably cry for years if you just suddenly fell apart at all._

**If I tried to start a conversation with you, would you talk to me?**

_Yeah, of course. What do you wanna talk about?_

**If I disappeared, would you even remember me?**

_How could I even forget you? I’d probably remember you for the rest of my life._

**If I smiled, would you smile back?**

_I mean, I’m already smiling when I see you. But I’d probably smile more, if you smiled too._

I know your answers.

But I can’t help my doubts.

And, sometimes, I think you understand that.

I think you know how I feel, even if you don’t feel those things yourself.

And, sometimes, that helps.

Sometimes, I can feel better about everything that causes me pain.

And I can keep living with you and everyone else.

I can win that daily struggle I have with myself.

But that’s not always the case.

And I worry about what will happen if I lose someday.

Because one loss is all it takes.

Just one loss.

And I’ll never get the chance to ask you those questions.

Just one loss, and you’ll never be able to give me your answers.

And that scares me.

The questions.

The answers.

The struggle.

I’m scared.

But I guess I’m pretty brave too.

So I’ll face that fear.

I’ll keep struggling.

I’ll keep fighting.

I’ll keep winning until I finally lose.

And, maybe, one day.

I’ll even be brave enough to ask you those questions.

And, maybe, one day.

You’ll give me your answers.

And I won’t have to fight quite as hard anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sorry that you lost this battle, Ronnie.  
> I hope that, even through that constant struggle, you really did see everyone there for you.  
> I hope you knew, even a little bit, that there were so many people who loved you and will always miss you from now on.


End file.
